A Caring Heart

by Margaret Carr

  She turned over in her bed and tried to shut out that word, need, but it was virtually impossible for her to do so. She had built her life around other peoples’ needs and it was more than she could do to ignore a cry for help.

  She would ask Wally what he had meant by those words the next time she saw him she decided next morning as she made herself some breakfast. Nurse Sally Armstrong was helping the doctor at today’s surgeries so apart from her daily rounds Isobel was free for the rest of the day.

  Pinning her cap to her head she took down the long leather coat she wore in bad weather and picking up her bag left the cottage. Pulling her bicycle from the shed she pushed it down the garden path and was on the point of mounting it when a voice hailed her.

  Glancing over her shoulder she saw Barbara Foreman climbing down from a small Ford car. Turning the bike around she walked towards the car. Barbara waved to her and as she drew closer she could see that the car was full of children. Looking flushed but happy Barbara cried, ‘I’m glad I caught you, I need to ask you a favour.’

  There’s that word again, she thought. ‘I was about to go out on my rounds, but how can I help?’

  ‘Do you recognise them?’ she asked turning back to the car.

  Isobel glanced at the children peering out of the car windows. ‘Should I?’

  Barbara laughed. ‘There are five of them.’

  ‘I can see that, whose are they?’

  ‘Ours, Andrew’s and mine.’

  Isobel stared at her with a lift of her eyebrows. And Barbara went on to explain. ‘The two girls are our original evacuees, then there are the three Heron children Mrs Crombie talked us into taking, and my life has never been so full. But what I was wanting to ask you is a real favour, can you possibly babysit for me on Thursday afternoon? Andrew is so busy these days and I have an important appointment that I really should not miss. I know you will probably be working but I thought there might just be a chance.’

  Isobel thought carefully then said, ‘Well I have my rounds in the morning and I’m doing morning and evening surgery but I have a couple of hours in the afternoon if that will do.’

  ‘Oh that will be wonderful, thank you so much,’ and before Isobel could say any more Barbara was back in the car and calling a cheery ‘goodbye.’

  Shaking her head, Isobel mounted her bicycle and set off. She had never had much to do with young children other than to attend to sick ones and had no idea how on earth she was going to cope with caring for five of them for an afternoon.

  * * *

  Wednesday morning found her back at the Hall visiting Wally, who was allowed to do light work while he waited for his shoulder to heal. That morning he was alone at a desk leafing through some paperwork. ‘Hello, Nurse,’ he greeted her.

  After passing the time of day and asking after his health she leant towards the desk from her seat and asked quietly, ‘What did you mean when you said that Jack needed me?’

  Wally didn’t look up, simply fluttered more pages of paper. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything, Miss. It’s none of my business.’

  ‘Please Wally, you can’t wriggle out of it now. What did you mean, is Jack in trouble?’

  He was looking decidedly uncomfortable now. He grabbed up a sheaf of papers and stood up to leave. ‘I have to get these over to the other office, so if you will excuse me, Miss.’

  ‘No, Wally. I mean to get an answer if I have to go to Jack myself.’

  ‘The captain is fine really.’

  ‘Does he know you go around telling people he needs them?’

  The papers came back down onto the desk as he slumped back into his chair. ‘He doesn’t get much sleep and I worry that he is pushing himself too hard.’

  ‘Well surely as a pilot he was used to going without sleep.’

  ‘For short spells, yes, but he never gets a night’s rest. The doctor gives him pills but,’ and he shook his head.

  Isobel was frowning ‘Do you mean when you say he never gets a night’s rest that he has nightmares, but that’s only to be expected after his terrible ordeal, surely?’

  Wally looked around anxiously as though searching for a way out. ‘Yes, that’s what the doctors say and that in time they will fade. In the meantime they are driving the poor man mad. He won’t accept it you see, none of it.’

  Puzzled now, Isobel said, ‘But I thought when he left hospital and went down south, well he was so much better when he came back.’

  Shaking his head Wally said, ‘Only because he hides it. He won’t talk about it to anyone. Doctor Foreman and the captain go back a long way, but I don’t believe he has ever spoken to him other than to ask him for more tablets. I know the doctor doesn’t like to give him so many pills, but . . .’ and here he shrugged helplessly. ‘He can’t let him suffer.’

  Once more Isobel was hearing Alan’s warning about Jack drifting through her mind. Her eyes followed Wally’s nervous movements as he shuffled on the chair, his right hand playing with the edge of the papers alongside him on the desktop.

  ‘I thought he might talk to you.’

  ‘Why would you think that? If he won’t talk to you or his friend why would he talk to me? I’m a nurse, Wally, I’m not a psychiatrist or even a doctor.’

  Wally was nodding his head, ‘I know that, but he is fond of you, and well you’re a woman.’ He looked expectantly at her, pleading for understanding.

  Isobel’s mouth pulled into a light smile. ‘You think he will talk to me because I am a woman?’

  His head bobbed up and down.

  Isobel shivered at the very thought of the task ahead of her. She knew she would try but didn’t hold out much hope for the results. Outwardly she gave Wally the promise he was hoping for and allowed him to escort her from the room. Inwardly her stomach was reacting like a volcano ready for an eruption.

  Once outside she had to kick off twice before she managed to make a wavy path down the drive on her bicycle. The handlebars seemed to have a will of their own as she missed an oncoming jeep by a hair’s breadth and received a chorus of shouts and whistles to send her on her way.

  * * *

  The babysitting on Thursday afternoon turned out far easier than she had expected. It was a pleasant day with no wind and a late summer sun in an otherwise cloudless sky.

  The boys decided they wanted to kick a ball around in the garden and the girls were happy to play house in the cupboard under the stairs where Barbara kept spare blankets and a few cans and packets of goods for the shelter in the garden.

  Later they all gathered in the living room while Isobel read to them. Barbara was due back anytime and the children were sat around the table drawing when there was a noise in the hall. Jack appeared in the living room doorway with Andrew close behind him.

  Both men looked surprised to see her. ‘Hello what are you doing here, where’s Barbara?’ Andrew asked above the children’s clamour of welcome.

  ‘She won’t be long; she had an appointment and was stuck for a minder. Ah, here she is now,’ Isobel said, as the front door banged and Barbara came into the room.

  The children rushed to change their allegiance as Barbara gave both men a quick peck on the cheek, then dumped her bag to concentrate on the children milling around her.

  Isobel couldn’t help but smile at Barbara’s sudden transformation into instant motherhood of this large family.

  So sidetracked was she that she didn’t notice Jack come up alongside her until he asked, ‘Can I give you a lift back to Thornbury?’

  Barbara had disappeared towards the kitchen with Andrew trailing after her.

  ‘Yes, thank you. I came on the bus but I would be glad of a lift back if that is convenient.’

  ‘No problem,’ he said, then called down the passage to say they were leaving.

  Barbara appeared around the kitchen door. ‘Oh right, well thanks for everything Isobel, you really are a brick. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stepped into the breach.’

  As th
ey hurried out to the car Jack said, ‘Helping out again? Is there no end to your willingness to find people in need.’

  She opened her mouth to say something as they climbed into the car but it was a strange driver this time and she bit her tongue, better to wait until they were alone.

  Arriving back in the village she turned to Jack and asked him if he could come down to the cottage one evening soon.

  With a questioning look he asked, ‘Is it urgent?’

  His question caught her by surprise, and much to her disgust she found herself floundering. ‘Well no, not exactly, but, there was something I wanted to ask you about.’

  ‘What about the girl?’

  ‘She’s back at the vicarage with her parents now the Heron children are with Barbara.’

  ‘Is it personal?’

  She gave him a hard look. He hadn’t left the car to walk her to her door as he had always done in the past and their relationship felt suddenly frail and unfamiliar. Taking a deep breath she said, ‘Yes, it is actually.’

  Then it was his turn to be taken unaware and with a smile twisting his lips he said, ‘Then of course I will make every effort to be down tomorrow evening.’

  ‘After surgery,’ she said, turning away and stomping off down the path.

  ‘Naturally,’ she heard him say as the car drove off.

  * * *

  When she arrived back from surgery the next night Jack was waiting on the doorstep.

  ‘You should have gone straight in, the door’s never locked.’

  ‘Well it should be! Don’t you ever learn, woman? What if that soldier had come back and let himself in?’

  Isobel shuddered. ‘No-one locks their doors around here.’

  ‘Times are changing. There are more strangers around these days.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said, preceding him into the cottage. She hung up her leather coat and tugged off her cap then set about making a warming cup of cocoa as her tea ration was nearly finished.

  Jack had crossed into the living room and commandeered the old chair and was playing with the kitten. Isobel stood silently in the doorway and watched him as she waited for the milk to boil.

  Instinct told him he was being watched and he asked, ‘Well, what is that we have to discuss that is so personal?’

  The milk boiled and she made their drinks. Carrying the two mugs she came into the front room and handed one to him before settling herself down in the chair opposite.

  ‘Well?’ he said, looking at her expectantly.

  She cradled the hot mug in her hands and toyed with how she might start. ‘I was thinking about Alan. Wondering how he might cope with what he has been through should he still be alive. They said his plane exploded, he may have been badly hurt when they brought him out of the water. I want to know what I may be up against when he comes home. You are the only person that can help me.’

  There followed a long silence, then he asked in a voice full of weary anger, ‘Who put you up to this?’

  She didn’t bother to deny that he was the real problem. ‘Someone who is very worried about you.’

  ‘There is only one person who can know and he would never . . .’ He stopped himself. ‘He has been sworn to secrecy.’

  ‘So have I, but that does not preclude him from personal information if it concerns the wellbeing of the officer in charge.’

  ‘Is he saying I am failing in my duty?’ His voice was soft but each word came out with the strike of a stone.

  I have to put a stop to this, she thought desperately. Go back to the beginning and start again. Her heart was jumping madly in her chest as she licked her lips and prepared to try again. ‘It was Wally. He told me you were not sleeping. I asked him if he wanted me to have a word with Doctor Turnbull but he said Andrew Foreman was treating you. He asked me if I would speak to you.’

  He had risen from the chair and wandered over to the old piano in the far corner of the room. The tension between them was so heavy she felt afraid to breathe. The kitten had curled up in the warmth of his empty seat. He lifted the lid of the piano and brushed his fingers over the yellowed keys.

  ‘Do you play?’ he asked.

  ‘No, Alan does.’

  ‘I have nightmares,’ he said dropping the lid and coming back to the hearth. ‘That is why I can’t sleep. The same nightmare every night with slight variations. Sometimes I am violent. Wally is good at explaining away the odd bruise or black eye.

  ‘I have tablets, they don’t stop the nightmares or help me sleep but they do stop the screaming.’ He was leaning back against the mantel and staring at the floor, as though disapproving of some speck of dust he had seen.

  ‘And the hospital tells you they will fade in time.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you need that sleep now.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When I was a little girl I would snuggle up on my father’s knee and he would tell me stories of his war. One of those stories was of a friend of his who had come back shell-shocked and in a bad way. The family were having a hard time with him until a grandmother put the youngest child in the bed with him. He slept soundly thereafter.’

  He was staring at her his dark eyes shining like wet coals in the overhead light.

  Then he let out such a laugh, full of bitter pain that Isobel jumped in her seat. ‘And where do you suggest I get this child from, grab the next one I see from its pram outside a shop, or perhaps Barbara would lend me one of hers. How should I frame my explanation, what could I say that won’t be misinterpreted, let me see...’

  Isobel took a big gulp of air. Even the good side of his face was twisted with misery, and before she could stop herself she had blurted out. ‘I will settle with you. I’ll sit by your bed and hold your hand.’

  An ember fell into the grate leaving a rustle of settling coals. The kitten woke, stretching and yawning, then looked around for something to play with.

  Isobel hunted desperately for her professional self. ‘For comfort only, you understand, as people in the open do for bodily warmth. Once you are asleep I shall go.’

  The laughter had gone from his face, when with slumped shoulders he gently moved the kitten from the chair and sat down.

  ‘Always the caring nurse, still trying to mend everyone’s problems.’ He reached across the gap to take her hands in his. ‘You must know you can’t cure them all and yet you never give up trying, do you?’

  Silent now, Isobel’s glance never left her hands.

  He stood up and slowly pulled her to her feet. Then placing his hands on either side of her head he stooped to lay his mouth on hers. His mouth was cool and firm as he laid it on her warm soft lips. The kiss was light and brief; when she sensed his withdrawal she kissed him back. There was a moment of hesitancy then they were in each other’s arms all else forgotten.

  ‘I THOUGHT I’D LOST YOU’

  Alan was safe and recovering from his ordeal at a convalescence hospital outside of Malton. As soon as she received the letter she had cleared her workload with Doctor Turnbull and arranged to travel down to see the brother she had feared she would never see again.

  She couldn’t help but wonder how he would react when she told him about Jack and how close they had grown. She smiled to herself when she remembered how Alan had warned her that Jack was deep and secretive, but that didn’t matter now as she was sure he would understand when she had explained.

  Jack had been a frequent visitor to the cottage since the night he had revealed his terror of the nightmares he suffered. They had talked often and gradually Jack had learnt to relax in her company. Some nights now he managed to get a whole night’s sleep without a nightmare.

  That night she was due to finish her training up at the Hall after which she would be on stand by, ready to help out should she be needed. She would tell Jack then of the letter about Alan and how she was to go down to visit him. She knew he would be pleased for her.

  She finished her rounds early, arranged for her neighbour to l
ook after the kitten, ate her tea, pumped up yet another flat tyre and set off for the Hall. When she arrived she propped her bicycle against the wall and hurried up the steps to the main entrance. Jack was nowhere to be found when she bumped into Wally.

  ‘Have you seen Jack?’ she asked breathlessly.

  ‘He’s out on ops.’

  ‘Oh dash, I wanted to see him before I left. Will you let him know my brother is home and in hospital in Malton. I’m off down to see him and I should be home the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Righty-oh, Miss and I’m right glad to hear about your brother.’

  ‘Thank you, Wally. Now I must dash before Mrs Crombie crosses me off.’

  * * *

  The journey to Malton the following day was arduous with crowded platforms and busy trains. Even the corridors were packed with soldiers sitting on kit bags. She had to change trains twice in a desperate scramble, once when she nearly lost her case and again when a lost child attached himself to her and she had to spend time finding his parents. But eventually she arrived at her destination.

  It was the same old Alan she found sitting up in bed grinning at her and she sighed with relief. Rushing over to him she flung her arms around his neck threatening to throttle him.

  ‘Hold on, girl. You’re choking me!’

  She sat back and looked lovingly at him, feeling herself choking up inside. The man in the next bed made some comment that made Alan chuckle. ‘No such luck. The girl’s my sister.’

  ‘Are you all right, no injuries?’

  ‘Nothing that won’t heal.’

  She held his hand and he squeezed hers. ‘I thought I’d lost you.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  They stared into each other’s eyes then with a slight shrug Isobel said, ‘I brought you some homemade toffee.’

  She took a taxi into town and stayed in a B&B overnight. The following day she visited him again. This time she told him about Jack, how he had opened up to her and how they were now good friends.

  ‘Friends?’ he asked with a frown between his brows.

  ‘I’m very fond of him, Alan, and I hope you and he will be friends too.’